Worth of a Man
by Lady Feylene
Summary: Percy thinks back on the decisions and bargains he's made to achieve his sudden rise through the ministry. (Nongraphic slash)


Title: Worth of a Man  
Author: Lady Feylene  
Disclaimer: No characters herein belong to me, I am making no money off of this whatsoever.  
Fest: This piece was written for the Weasley Sibling FQF:   
Rating: PG-13  
Pairing: Lucius/Percy  
OoTP Spoilers: Mild  
Archive: Anywhere, just ask.

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"And how are you enjoying your flat, Mr. Weasley?"

Percy tensed, the voice behind him running up along his spine. He set down the papers he was thumbing through and turned around, his face schooled into a mask of polite indifference.

"Quite well, thank you Mr. Malfoy." Percy kept his voice controlled and mild, they were having nothing more then a polite conversation between two adults. 

"I imagine you must be pleased, that your new position affords you such…luxuries."

"Yes, I'm quite pleased," Percy said, wondering what Lucius was getting at today. In truth, Percy despised the man. But there was such a thing as 'necessary evil' and Lucius fell into that category.

"The minister speaks quite highly of you," Lucius went on, picking up some a mug from Percy's desk and turning it over in his hand with a look of disgust. "But I wouldn't want you thinking you don't need to work hard to keep your new job…"

"Of course not." Percy gave a tightlipped smile, wishing Lucius would just leave. So that was what this was about. 'Payment', or so the blonde man liked to call it.

"You will be working late tonight?"

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy." He didn't have much choice now. Wonderful. He'd need to come up with some new excuse for Fudge as to why he needed to stay late. He was running out of excuses. 

"Very good. I shall see you then." Lucius gave him a rather condescending smile and swept out of his office.

It was getting harder and harder to convince himself that this had been worth it. Percy sighed and sat down behind his desk, glancing around his office. It was a very nice office. It was an office of someone important. From the mahogany desk, to the plush carpeting, to the leather chairs. And it was *his*. And his robes…they were a fine linen weave, embroidered with what was probably silk. Percy hadn't paid that much attention to the saleswitch, he'd simply liked the look of the elegantly cut blue robes and wanted something that cost more then ten or fifteen galleons. And eighty was now well within his price range.

Then there was the matter of his flat. His rather expensive flat, in a very nice section of London. It was well furnished and spacious, and he would go almost so far as to call it elegant. It was quite perfect for him, really.

He had essentially everything he'd ever wanted out of life. A *very* good job, a good home, money…but was it *really* worth it?

It had been in the beginning. And really, Lucius wasn't all that demanding. Not at first…

__

"Mr. Weasley?"

Percy glanced up, surprised to see Lucius Malfoy standing over his small desk. He was rather certain his dismissal letter was going to arrive any day now.

"Yes?"

"I heard about your…unfortunate incident with Mr. Crouch. Cornelius tells me the man was quite mad, and committed suicide." A raised eyebrow accompanied the statement.

"Yes," Percy affirmed frowning.

"Such a pity," Lucius went on, his lips curled back in a small sneer of distaste. "And it would appear you're about to lose your job. So tragic, really…"

"Yes." Tight and strained.

"I am here, Mr. Weasley, to make you a deal."

"Oh?" Suspicious interest.

"I will…put in a good word for you, with the minister. If you do a few small favors for me."

"Such as?"

"We will discuss it later. You will be working late tonight, Mr. Weasley. *Very* late."

Lucius had left, leaving behind only a strange sense of uneasy curiosity. Percy had stayed late. Lucius appeared, true to his word.

***

"What I ask is very simple, so I shall begin with what I offer. A position in the Minister's office. Your salary will exceed what you make now in numbers you cannot comprehend. You will have a bit extra on the side."

"And in return?"

"Come here."

Lucius had made his demands very simple. Lips upon Percy's, hand under his robes, and then one bending him down over the desk…

His promotion came the next day, Lucius that night. And nearly every night after.

***

It had been worth it, in the beginning. Lucius was hardly a *bad* lover, and Percy had a mild attraction to other men. And the benefits were worth the slight discomfort of sodomy. 

It had been *money*. Money his family essentially threw in his face. Didn't they understand how important this was? They were embarrassingly poor. The youngest wore rags, hand me downs so faded all color and texture were gone. Their home was little more then a glorified shack. And not a single one had appreciated what he'd done for them. 

//It's entirely their loss.// Let them follow after Dumbledore like blind sheep. Let them prance and mince off to the slaughter, blind, ignorant and dumb. He had cast his lot with those who had *power*. And he had been rewarded.

//Is it really worth it?// But he was in the minister's own office. He was a (_whore_) Junior Assistant (_whore_). 

He was well aware of what he was. He was much a sheep as any of them, he simply chose to follow a wolf rather then a goat. 

//This is ridiculous, and not even worth thinking about.// He could lie to himself, sometimes. He could convince himself that he was simply an affair, and all of his good fortune was just a stroke of luck. He wasn't using Lucius, and wasn't in turn being used. 

But that didn't hold true, in the dark of night or the harsh light of dawn. He could only truly fool himself when he sat behind his desk, and filed his papers and made his notes and acted as though he were the happiest drone in the hive.

It was all a lie.

***

The day passed with relative ease. A few jokes were traded concerning the new intern in the Department of Magical Transportation, and the latest issue of the Dailey Prophet was discussed. A very normal day. 

Round about closing time, Percy suddenly realized that a report on recruiting techniques employed by the ministry was not done. He insisted staying to finish it, despite the minister assuring him it could be done in the morning. 

Percy was quite the diligent worker.

Lucius came when it was dark, the only light being the one in Percy's office. A few of the cleaning crew were milling about on another level, and they would be left alone for an hour. It was always an hour. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Mr. Weasley."

"Mr. Malfoy."

Always so formal. Percy said nothing more, unfastened his well cut linen robes and draped them over his chair. He moved around his desk, and found himself in the other man's arms. It was just as before. Impersonal, animal and detached. He gripped the edges of his desk and stared straight ahead. This was nothing more then another duty, another task in his service to the ministry.

It was over. Percy wanted nothing more then a shower. He felt cheap and used, immediately following. As soon as he reached his own peak, he lost all interest in the act. A small sack was tossed onto the desk, and he knew what it contained. His 'fringe benefits'. 

"I shall see you in three nights, Mr. Weasley." Lucius said pulling on his gloves. Always afterwards it was as though nothing had happened. Percy nodded, wanting the man out of his office.

What would they say if they knew? His family…his spiteful, ungrateful family. They certainly wouldn't warm up to him. They'd most likely stone him to death, or disown him permanently. He was nothing more then a common whore, whose clientele happened to be the elite.

It was sick, really. And he knew it, he wasn't an idiot. His mother may have raised her share of fools, but he was not one of them. He didn't bother pulling his robes back on. He had no desire to sully them with his own dirty flesh. He locked up his office and left the building, robes flung over his arm.

The night air was cool, and he felt it cleansed him just a bit. He could still taste Lucius on his lips, in his mouth. He tasted of white wine and cloves, and it clung to Percy's palette, even as it turned stagnant.

The walk home would clear his mind, and then he would shower as he did every time after. He would scrub his skin until it was red and raw, and he would collapse naked into his bed until it was time for work yet again.

It was a vicious cycle, really. It was cruel and sick and petty, to think he was worth only the value of his arse. And Lucius was worth everything Percy owned.

And it had been worth it, in the beginning.

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End file.
